


The Locked Door

by astropixie



Series: Sunrise [3]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst, Boundaries, Consent Issues, Coping Mechanisms, Current environment is supportive, Dissociation, Dissociation during sex, Disturbing Themes, Dubious Consent, M/M, Nightmares, Oral Sex, Painful Sex, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Relationship(s), Past Sexual Abuse, Past Torture, Rape Recovery, Rape/Non-con Elements, Recovery, Relationship Problems, Trauma, Trust Issues, past stormpilot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-15 08:03:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7214311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astropixie/pseuds/astropixie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You can read my mind!” Poe said, excited now. He sat up, giving Ben that confident smile. “Could you feel what I feel?”</p><p>“I could,” Ben said quietly. </p><p>----</p><p>Poe wants to help Ben learn to enjoy sex in the aftermath of Snoke's abusive conditioning. Sometimes Poe doesn't pay enough attention to his own needs and boundaries in the process.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the third part of a four-part series. I recommend at least reading part one, ["Candles, Fruits, Trees,"](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6880495) before reading this part. 
> 
> I think the tags cover everything (please let me know if they don't), but to reiterate, this story features brief flashbacks to non-con, dub-con in all the sexual scenes (both parties this time; they are both pushing themselves too hard to please the other), and the beginnings of very serious relationship problems.
> 
> This one is darker than "Candles" and "Bonfire." I admit to difficulty writing this and updates might be really slow as I am (trying to be) careful about when I visit this document. Please be careful while reading too. This fic gets darker for Ben and Poe both. Poe's desperation to help is going to lead to trouble for him. This installment is the reason why I made it a series; it's I think darker than what the original prompt intended, and you can get the intent from the first two in the series without reading this one. 
> 
> I usually list resources in the end notes but this time most of the research was done through private conversations and reading personal accounts. If you need resources you can begin at https://www.rainn.org/recovering-sexual-violence. 
> 
> Thank you for reading, and take care. <3333

“We have three leads on Snoke’s hiding place,” Leia said, waving to bring up a new star map in the control room. The map zoomed to a blue dot with a target blinking over it, and Ben took a deep breath, remembering and trying not to—the stronghold—the cold nights in the stone tower—ancient, scarred flesh pressed against his—

“Ben, this was one of the locations you suggested,” his mom broke into his thoughts. “Is there some intel you can give us besides what Finn’s team already found out?”

Ben blinked, trying to think of something that might be useful, steer away from the feeling of his knees growing sore on the freezing rough stone while Snoke moved behind him—

“Ben?” Leia prompted. He looked up at her (when did he look down?) and she eyed him with concern.

“He has a stronghold there,” Ben managed. He couldn’t look at Poe, who was trying to catch his eye from across the room. “It’s an old Sith temple, with traps.”

“Do you know the layout?”

He remembered walking inside in his full robes, going up the stone staircase-- _"Take off those robes, Kylo Ren..."_

“Ben?”

Now Leia had moved to stand in front of him, and everyone, all the commanders and admirals and Uncle Luke and Rey, they stared at him while he swallowed and tried to think of something useful to say. Did he know the layout? That was the question she asked.

“I know some of it,” he said, shying away from his mom’s touch. “I had to go there. Sometimes. It’s like a spiral tower, with an entrance chamber, a staircase going five levels up. He—I think he stays in the top level.”

Leia narrowed her eyes at him as if she could tell he was hiding something. Of course she could, she always could.

And Luke could, too. “Did something happen there? Between you and Snoke?” he asked.

Ben looked to Poe, whose eyes widened, looking between Luke and Leia.

Leia shot Luke a glare, and he shrugged. “If this is the place, it would be nice to have Ben with me and Rey on this offensive, but if it’s too difficult—“

“I can do it,” Ben said, clenching his fists. How dare Luke say this in front of the entire war room? How dare he doubt him like this? “I want to do this.”

 “Okay,” Leia said, bringing up a new map of the other locations. “Here’s the next possibility.”

Luke fixed him with icy blue eyes, even colder than usual in the blue glow from the map, and he glared back. He could do this.

 

* * *

Sometimes Ben woke up from his nightmares with Poe holding him tight so he couldn’t lash out. Lately it was safer for Poe to get out of bed and gently call to him from a few feet away.

He was getting worse, not better.

“I’m sorry,” he croaked, hiding his face while Poe sat down wearily next to him. This couldn’t go on. Poe needed sleep. He needed to be the best pilot in the Resistance, especially now that they were close to planning an offensive, he couldn’t wake up every single night just because his half-crazed boyfriend couldn’t handle his own mind, memories that had nothing and yet everything to do with Poe—how dare he even think of Snoke and Poe as similar, they weren’t, they weren’t—

But he had only ever had sex with two people. Snoke and Poe. And he couldn’t seem to bluff his way through sex with Poe like he had with Snoke, couldn’t hide how much he anticipated the pain. He hoped he could at least hide his mental comparisons of them—Poe didn’t need to know that when he gently held his cock in a warm calloused hand, trying to show him how good things could feel, all he could think was _Poe is warmer than Snoke_ and, worse, _why was it easier to come for Snoke?_

Poe rubbed his back and leaned on his shoulder, yawning. Ben tried to remember what his Uncle Luke taught him about calming down—the dark side was still so close, but right now fear and anger weren’t exactly his problems. He didn’t know how he felt.

“Poe,” he said, surprised at how calm he sounded. Maybe the Jedi relaxation techniques helped after all. “I think I should sleep at my mom’s again.”

Poe’s head jerked up. “Wait—why?”

Ben held his hand. “I keep waking you up.”

“I don’t mi—mi—“ Poe yawned. “Mind.”

Ben grimaced.

Poe sighed. “Maybe you have a point. I don’t mind, though. Really. I know it’s not your fault.”

They didn’t say anything for a moment. Ben looked at their entwined hands and tried not to think of how much this felt like breaking up. Debated taking his idea back.

“You know,” Poe said, then chewed the inside of his cheek, not saying more.

Ben gave his hand a squeeze. “What?”

Poe took a breath and let it out slowly. “It might not hurt to go to Dr. Kalonia about this.”

Ben went still. “But—what good would that do? She can’t do anything, and—if I do, if anyone knows about what happened, what if they don’t let me help kill Snoke?”

Poe looked away.  

Ben withdrew his hand. “You don’t think I should help. You agree with Luke.” He stood and started pacing, hands in his hair. _Poe doesn’t believe in me. Poe thinks I can’t do this._

Poe stood, his arms spread open as if to contain his pacing. “Hey—love, I know you want to get back at him. Hell, I want to charge in, shoot him in the kneecaps, and hold him still for you to slice off his head.”

 _That_ stopped his pacing. He stared down at him. “That’s specific.”

Poe shrugged. “I want him dead as much as you and we have a very real chance of that happening soon. Will you really be okay if you see him again? That’s what it comes down to. Will you be able to focus? Or will he mess with you?”

He fought sudden hot tears and gathered some of his things.

Poe followed him around the room while he got his bag. “I just meant—“

“I’m not good at much anymore,” he said. “Not flying or commanding a squadron like you. But I’m good at killing people. Just let me do what I’m good at.”

“Ben, there’s so much messed up about what you just said, calm down and—“

Ben strode to the door, unwilling to look at him. “Good night, Poe. Get some sleep.”

He nearly left then but realized how unlikely it was that Poe would actually sleep after he stormed out. He bit his lip, turned, saw Poe standing there looking up at him helplessly.

“This is best, right?” he said, unsure now.

Poe brought a hand to his forehead, rubbing and thinking. “Yeah. You’re right, about this anyway. I’m sorry, love.”

They hugged, a lingering hug that he almost couldn’t break, and he left.  

He gripped his bag and avoided the stares of the night crew as he made his way through the silent quarters to his mom’s. He hoped to sneak in, he reached to key in the code, but—the door opened without pressing a button. 

“I thought I sensed you.” Leia leaned against the door, blocking his way. “Bad night?”

He shifted on his feet. “Yes.”

She smiled wryly at him and gestured for him to come in.

“It’s late,” he said when he saw her reaching for hot chocolate—which only stoked his anger again, at the reminder of his Uncle Luke (why did he like that beverage so much?), who also didn’t believe in him.

“I’m still working.” She heated the water. “Want to join me?”

“Sure.”

They sat up together, late, very late, surrounded by datapads and mugs of hot chocolate that went cold, forgotten as they went over accounts together. They mostly read and worked in silence. Leia didn’t push him for an explanation of why he left Poe, or pry any more into the matter of his stammered intelligence report on Snoke’s hiding places.

“We need to go to sleep,” Leia finally said, leaning back in her chair.

Ben nodded, setting his datapad down. He stood to clear the dishes and hesitated next to her. “Thanks, Mom.”

She patted his hand.

“You should ask for help more often,” he said, gesturing to the table strewn with pads and receipts. “I didn’t know you stayed up late doing this.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Runs in the family.”

He tilted his head, waiting for an explanation.

“Doing things alone when we probably shouldn’t.” She yawned. “Go to bed, Ben.”

* * *

“Dameron.”

“Organa.”

It was the next day. They looked at each other while everyone else around them in the hangar went about their business. Poe looked up at him, barely suppressing a grin.

Ben swallowed. “Don’t do it.”

Poe smirked.

“Okay, if you have to,” Ben said. “But one of these days it won’t work—“

Poe _winked._

Damn that wink and the effect it had. He bit his lip and looked down, hoping his hair falling around his face hid the hot flush he felt. “Want to go over…this receipt for...stuff?”

“Probably your worst excuse ever, but yes,” Poe said, and they headed off to his quarters.

They closed the door and for a moment he just held Poe close, breathing in the smell from the top of his head (floral soap, engine oil, and something else uniquely _Poe_ ), feeling his warmth and squeezing him before lunging down for a kiss.

Poe moaned into his mouth and ran his hands along his arms, his back, and rubbed against him—even though the flight suit he could feel how hard he was—

“Sorry,” Poe apologized, murmuring into his mouth and backing away a little. Trying not to pressure him because sex still went so terribly every time they tried.

No, Snoke would not ruin his relationship with Poe. Snoke had ruined a lot about his life but he wasn’t going to take this, too.

Ben broke the kiss, pushed him onto the bed, and looked down at him, grinning. Poe liked to be pinned into place like this, it made him squirm, lose control—usually Poe’s movements were so controlled, smooth and romantic, but just holding him gently in place, fingers gripping his upper arms made him whimper and jerk up, desperate to grind against something. Ben tore into his pants, earning another whimper, and his cock sprang free.

“You don’t have to—“ Poe started, but he was already leaking wet, and his words turned into a throaty moan as Ben trailed sloppy kisses up and down his length.

“Stars, Ben,” Poe moaned, eyes fluttering closed as Ben continued pressing thick wet kisses to his cock.

He gently kissed the top of his shaft and looked up. “Do you want me to keep going?”

“Of course, but only if you do, love,” Poe said. He looked wonderful with his flight suit mostly on and pants wantonly down just far enough to give Ben access to his cock.

Ben nodded and took him in his mouth— _tastes different than Snoke—don’t think about Snoke, this is Poe, I’m with Poe_ —worked him with his tongue, and Poe bucked into him. He wanted to try to take more of his length, he knew he could do it, but he worried about spacing out again if he did that— _no, stop thinking about Snoke,_ _this is Poe, I’m with Poe_ …he gripped onto Poe’s hip with one hand and used his other hand to hold Poe’s shaft, hoping the contact would make up for his inability to do his best.

“I wish you knew how good this feels,” Poe said suddenly, oddly coherent. He looked up; Poe stared at him. He made one more lingering swirl of his tongue and backed away.

“I could—“ he realized aloud, and shut up, pressing his wet lips closed. What was he thinking? Clearly he wasn’t thinking at all—he couldn’t go into Poe’s head, never, that was a mistake, he did what he had to back then and it was still a mistake—he’d been so _angry._

“You can read my mind!” Poe said, excited now. He sat up, leaning back on his elbows, giving Ben that confident smile. “Could you feel what I feel?”

“I could,” Ben said quietly. He had done this with Rey a little, under Luke’s guidance, as they helped him retrain his skills using Light side techniques. But he didn’t like doing it, reading minds was his main use at the First Order. The other two Jedi had noticed, and only practiced that one time.

Poe’s smile faltered, and he reached to touch his face. “Hey. We’ve been over this, I forgive you.”

Ben leaned into the touch. “I hurt you.”

“Well, you’re not hurting me now,” Poe pointed out. He went quiet for a moment and said, “I’m willing to bet you made it hurt more than it had to, huh?”

Ben bit his lip and nodded.

Poe shrugged. “It’s ion trails behind a ship now, love.”  He laughed. “Hey, is it going to be like giving yourself a blowjob?”

Ben smiled tightly. “Maybe a little.” He nuzzled into Poe’s hand, thinking. It might not be a bad idea, especially since Poe seemed okay with it, and it could work. He should be able to focus on what Poe was feeling, and it wouldn’t hurt him at all. He had been too rough…before. He tried not to remember how angry he’d been, seeing the ghost from his past, lashing out— _wanting_ to hurt him—

“I want you to know how this feels,” Poe said, stroking his cheek with his thumb. “Please, I want to try this.”

Ben kissed his thumb and leaned down, kissing the tip of his cock. “Okay.”

He opened his mouth, taking him in, and brought up a hand to hold Poe’s as he gently, gently reached out through the Force to brush against Poe’s mind. The familiar rushing sound of voices and memories and random thoughts hovered close, like listening to a conversation beyond a locked door.

He backed away enough to talk. “I’m starting, okay?”

Poe squeezed his hand. “I’ll tell you if I get uncomfortable, don’t worry about me. Just suck my cock.”

Ben smiled and went back to it, closing his lips over him and opening the door.

Poe’s whole world at that moment was Ben, the feeling of his hot mouth on him, sad dark eyes looking up at him with adoration— _Poe thinks I look sad?_

Ben refocused, not looking around his head for anything at all but the raw sensations, what he was feeling in that moment, and when he found that, he couldn’t help it—he moaned, moaned around Poe’s cock in his mouth as his own cock twitched in response to Poe’s pleasure.

“Oh this is hot,” Poe gasped above him. “You’re so hot, and I feel you, like—before, but different—“

Ben checked for a moment—yeah, Poe could feel him, but it didn't hurt, if anything it just added to the intensity for him—

Poe groaned and squirmed, and Ben realized he forgot to keep moving, or doing anything. He was lying on his stomach almost completely still with Poe’s cock in his mouth, concentrating too much on _not_ concentrating on Poe’s thoughts.

“S-thorry,” he said around his cock, making Poe laugh, and he focused again.

“I know…what this is like…” Poe said, breathing heavily.

Ben saw it—it was like drinking with friends, which Poe hadn’t done in a while—he preferred to stay sober, just in case they needed to fly in a pinch, but the slightly fuzzy, swaying feel of a good whiskey going to your head… _Ben is actually enjoying this, damn this is working—_

Ben realized he was grinding against the bed, and it felt…good. Poe was right, this was working, he could feel, in a weird way, what Poe felt, and it was amazing, just like Poe tried to tell him.

_…and oh, that’s what this is like, a good buzz, and the drunk sex after—Ben’s pretty good at this but he’s no Corey from flight school—_

His concentration on the two tasks wavered. Ben bobbed his head, trying, trying—Poe breathed heavily—

_…and even Finn was—why do I like all these guys from the First Order anyway—did Stormtroopers get more practice? I guess Ben had Snoke and that’s it…my poor Ben..._

Ben pulled away from Poe’s mind and body, afraid of his own anger and something else—a feeling in his chest—his eyes felt hot—

“Ben?” Poe asked, sitting up. “You okay?”

Ben thought of the sunrise meditation, his favorite, looking at Poe’s bright orange flight suit, touching it for a moment. He jumped as Poe’s hand closed over his fingers touching the rough orange fabric and looked up into Poe’s concerned eyes.

“Ben? Love?” Poe asked, looking at him searchingly. He must have been quiet too long.

“I’m fine,” he said.

Poe smiled softly. “I think we’re done for now, it’s okay.”

Ben gripped his hand tight. This wasn’t okay. None of it was okay. “But—“

Poe kissed him, shutting him up, and grinned at him. “That was…incredible. That was really hot.”

Ben leaned against him, trying not to retort with how he knew for a fact that he was lying, comparing him to everyone else…he stared at the orange another long few seconds, remembering the meditation. _You are sitting at the water’s edge, and the first dawn light hits the clouds above the horizon..._

“Poe,” he said, calmer now, but he wasn’t sure what to say. Could he admit that he heard his drifting thoughts? Poe might not even be aware of everything he was thinking, he probably didn’t mean anything by it, but…it hurt, all of it, the comparisons, the memories of other lovers. How Poe thought of him.  

“Yeah?” Poe said. He stood and zipped his pants.

Ben looked up at him but then turned away, hiding his “sad eyes.” “I’m sorry.”

“Hey.” Poe sat down again and took his hand firmly. “You have nothing to apologize for. I’m telling you that was hot, that was really hot. You just spaced out again there, and I know you say you’re okay, but it seems to happen a lot lately.”

He bit his lip. “I’m sorry.”

Poe sighed and leaned in for a hug. “My Ben.”

 _My poor Ben, more_ _like_. He took a breath. “Are you okay?”

Poe patted his back. “More than okay. I’d like to do that again sometime.”

Ben tried not to cringe at the idea, and Poe didn’t notice, he kept talking. “I think we’re onto something here. You were getting into it.”

Ben nodded, keeping quiet.

Poe kissed him. “Let’s get back.”

They walked back to the main part of the base together, quiet. Ben realized he really wanted some reassurance, with question after question stabbing his chest with new aches ( _Am I really that bad in bed? Does he love me or just feel sorry for me? Why does he put up with me when he could have anyone else?_ ) but…could he trust anything Poe said anymore?

“We’re okay after last night, right?” Poe asked suddenly before they parted ways.

Ben swallowed all his questions and smiled. “Yeah.”


	2. Chapter 2

Ben worried sometimes that the best meditation for him was fighting. It didn’t seem like a very Jedi-like attitude toward violence.

But when he had an opponent in front of him, he didn’t lose time, he could see and hear and feel and _be_. His lightsaber crackled and thrummed with barely-contained power, and he pushed against Rey in the wooded clearing, evenly matched. She gritted her teeth and slipped away for a quick flurry of attacks, which he blocked, grinning.

“Nice work, Rey. Ben, feel the Force moving through you,” Luke called, watching from a fallen log. “Calm, at peace.”

He stepped away from her and swallowed down his anger at Luke for always treating him like a plasma grenade about to blow. He _was_ calm and peaceful until Luke said something. Now he had to draw in a deep breath and concentrate, thinking quickly of a meditation or a calming technique he could even use without making things worse—the sunrise was no good anymore.

When he thought about the bright orange flightsuit he crumpled inside because he knew Poe would move on soon if Ben couldn't give him what he wanted.  

Every time they were together Ben wanted to ask why Poe loved him but it sounded stupid and desperate, it would scare him off even more than his hangups and issues already had. When Poe left for a week on a mission he actually felt relieved, then guilty for feeling relieved. Poe was back now, and that morning Ben had glimpsed him in the mess hall with a cup of caf, rubbing his forehead. Ben decided to skip morning meal.

Rey charged in for another attack, a move they were working on, and Ben barely brought his blade up in time to parry.

“Nearly had you,” Rey quipped.

He was about to respond with a quip of his own when his lightsaber buzzed. Rey and Ben both frowned down, eyes following the length of the blade to the source of the noise. The normal orange-red flares from the vents sparked with flashes of white.

“What’s the problem?” Luke asked, getting up.

Ben scowled, refusing to admit that his lightsaber might be giving out. He shrugged and twirled it—a mistake, it hummed and rattled at the motion. “Nothing.”

Rey frowned and backed away. “That doesn’t seem right. It sounds like a problem with the containment coils to me.”

He took a few deep breaths, struggling to stay calm. It seemed the only thing that actually calmed him down lately was about to be taken away. He felt Luke’s critical eyes on him and powered down the blade. It made a clunking sound, all but confirming Rey’s diagnosis. He could fix it later but it would just happen again.

“Looks like it’s time for a new lightsaber,” Luke said gently.

“I can fix it,” Ben said, even though he knew Luke was right. But it had his grandfather’s crystal—it might be the color used by dark Jedi but it was his, it had kept him safe all those years. He clung to the heavy casing, knuckles whitening.

Luke shook his head. “Don’t you think it’s time to move on? You’re not fighting for Snoke anymore. It’s appropriate for a Jedi to construct their own lightsaber when they’re ready.”

“I made this one,” Ben grated out, at the same time as Rey said, “Am I ready?”

Luke looked between them, and his beard twitched. “I think you both should make new lightsabers, together.”

“No,” Ben said.

Luke sighed. “Ben, that lightsaber sounds like an exhaust port dragging behind an amateur pod racer.”

Rey snorted in laughter, and Ben gripped his weapon even tighter. Rey seemed to notice his sour mood and quieted down. “Well, I want to make my own,” she said. “It sounds like fun. And this is yours anyway, maybe you should take it back.”

He looked at the lightsaber of Anakin Skywalker in her outstretched hand, and he grimaced, scar across his face burning in memory. “It’s yours, it’s not mine.”

She shook it. “Don’t be stubborn, it’s yours!”

“No.”

They went back and forth, and Luke pinched the bridge of his nose. Ben smirked, inwardly pleased that he and Rey could try even Master Skywalker’s infinite patience.

“All right, listen,” Luke interrupted them. “You’re both making your own lightsabers, you’re read--…” Luke sighed. “You’re ready as you’ll ever be. Ideally you would find your own crystals but we can synthesize them on base. That’s how I made mine.”

Rey’s face lit up, but then she bit her lip. “What about Finn? He’s offworld.”

Ben fought the sudden urge to kick something at the mention of Finn, but both Luke and Rey sensed his flash of anger and looked at him sharply.

“What?” Rey demanded.

He imagined for a moment confiding in Rey. (“Poe thinks Finn gives better blowjobs than me.”) He shook his head. It was stupid. It sounded stupid and jealous and like all of Luke’s fears that he was too “fragile” to have a relationship were true. And it hurt knowing that his well-meaning if infuriating uncle was right.

He wasn’t strong enough for a relationship, couldn’t just pretend he didn’t feel pain, just do whatever he needed to keep Poe happy, and instead he had to make it a big deal and it wasn’t, it was just sex, and he was good at it, Snoke said so—he used to use pain, use it to fuel his rage and connection to the Force, but he had to figure out something new, that wouldn’t work anymore.

Luke and Rey were still staring at him, waiting for something. An explanation, maybe. He could feel Luke’s worry through the Force, radiating a blackbody spectrum of concern, and Rey, that simmering anger she struggled with right _there_ , angry at him for still not liking her best friend even though they were all on the same side now.

“It’s nothing,” he said gruffly.

“You have some problem with Finn,” Rey said, a hand on her lightsaber as if ready to fight in earnest about this.

“He’s my boyfriend’s ex,” Ben said, deciding to tell some truth to obscure the rest of the truth. “I don’t know what you expect from me. I might be back on the light side but I’m not a saint.”

Rey’s fighting stance softened, and Luke covered his face, hiding his laughter.

They went back to talking about lightsabers, and Ben nodded along, but he realized why he couldn’t let his go.

Vader used to be the only person he spoke to. He had no one else at the First Order and he realized that he felt the same now. No one understood. He had done all those things, Kylo Ren, _him_ , murdering and torturing for the First Order because he _wanted_ to. He said yes to everything, didn’t once say no except as a silent scream in his head. He had sex with Snoke even though it hurt, it was some problem with him and it would never go away or get better, he would just have to learn to accept it. He had to or else he would lose Poe.

“Ben?”

Ben looked up. Rey and Luke stared at him, exasperated. He could kick himself—he was so distracted lately, and everyone knew it, it was so obvious.

“Sorry,” he said.

Luke fixed him with that icy stare and suddenly he wished he hadn’t antagonized him so much earlier by bickering with Rey—maybe if he were _better_ this wouldn’t be happening, everything from his lightsaber to his relationship with Poe would be fine. As Luke searched his face he struggled to keep his thoughts to himself, if Luke knew what happened with Snoke he would be revolted and never trust him again—

“You have to work on staying present,” Luke said finally, and Ben could laugh in relief that Luke thought that was the main problem at hand.

“I know,” Ben said.

“You’ll get there,” Luke said, clapping a hand to his shoulder, and Ben managed not to shy away from the touch. “Just keep working at your meditations. Master Yoda said I couldn’t keep my mind on where I was too, you know.”

Ben tried to take comfort in that, tried to feel something when he looked at Luke’s smile, but all he could think was Luke had never messed up like him, and a little daydreaming was not the same as whatever he did when he was overwhelmed. Luke couldn’t know, he was too good. He never tortured his lover because he wanted to make him scream. He had never been so desperate for—what, affection? Approval?—that he agreed to have sex with his master. Luke _saved_ his father, the exact opposite of what Kylo had done. No, it wasn’t the same at all.

All he said was, “I know, Uncle Luke, I’ve heard the story before.”

They all laughed and walked back to the base together, and Ben tried to stay in the conversation, making them laugh and pretending to be fine. He didn’t think about how he missed that empty blackened helmet because he wanted someone to talk to.

* * *

Ben pretended to be sane and normal and witty all afternoon and during dinner. He felt almost like he used to when he would put his mask on, only instead of the mask of Kylo Ren, it was the mask of Ben Solo—cheerful, funny, everything he didn’t feel. And he knew Poe liked it. He caught Poe looking his way a few times with a grin and Ben winked at him. Poe nodded, grinning hard and winking right back.

They headed to Poe’s quarters after, like they used to, before Ben moved back in with his mom, and Ben had the urge to slam Poe against the wall and kiss him. He gave in to the urge.

“Mmph!” Poe gasped into his mouth. “Ben! There’s just two more doors to go!”

Ben growled low in his throat and kissed his ear, his neck, and Poe’s legs actually buckled. “Okay, okay,” Poe said, laughing.

They somehow made it to Poe’s room and slammed the door behind them. Ben picked him up, and Poe kissed him with that deep romantic way he had, and Ben suddenly wanted Poe to do more than that—he wanted Poe to hurt him. He wanted to be held down and fucked until he screamed and bled and he wanted it now, only there was no way to tell him that—

Except there was.

It made so much sense.

“Poe, I want you to fuck me,” Ben said in a breathless rush into his mouth.

Poe paused mid-kiss. “I don’t know.”

He could already feel Poe was hard, and knew how much he wanted it, all the failed attempts spoke to that, he just had to convince him somehow. He kissed him in all the ways he knew drove Poe crazy, paying special attention to his neck, and Poe moaned. “Please, I need you, please fuck me…”

“Where is this coming from?” Poe asked.

Ben tried to kiss him again to avoid coming up with an answer, but Poe pulled away, motioning to be put down. "What's going on? Talk to me," he said.

Ben set him down, panicking--he thought Poe would go with this more easily, of course he wouldn't, for all kinds of reasons--Ben was disfigured and tainted, all his experience was with Snoke and Poe knew it, and--

"Ben?" Poe took his hands. "You know I want to, I just don't want to hurt you. We made some progress but I don't want to go too fast, that's all."

"You won't," Ben said, lying. "I just want to try."

Poe squeezed his hand. "You really missed me, huh?"

Ben nodded.

They sat down on the bed, Poe stroking his hand slowly. "I still feel like we should try something else first," he said. "I want to try the 'you feel what I feel' thing again and I've been thinking about what to do--remember when you watched me masturbate? What if we try that again, but you feel it along with me?"

It was a very reasonable next step. Extremely reasonable.

Ben didn't want to be reasonable, he wanted to be fucked.

But Poe clearly didn’t want to and he needed to go along with whatever Poe wanted, and his face felt warm as they stripped down and cuddled close together, Poe wrapping one arm around him while he stroked himself with the other hand—it was humiliating that this was all the sex Ben could handle and Poe knew it and—

“Are you feeling what I’m feeling?” Poe asked, pausing a moment.

Ben touched his forehead to Poe’s, entering his mind gently. If he was better at this, if he had practiced more, he wouldn’t have to hear so much—using the Jedi way, it was like casting a net in the general direction of what he wanted to see, and he found the raw sensations he was looking for but the net was too wide, not the precision laser he had trained himself to use so well using Snoke’s techniques, finding what he needed quickly by tearing through minds—

Poe moaned softly at the sensation of Ben in his head, again reminding him of a few pleasant drinks.

“How is it?” Poe asked. He gripped his shaft and Ben moaned into his ear, the feeling from Poe making his own cock twitch. He closed his eyes and held on to Poe, biting his lip at the sensations, trying to stay focused, keep that net as small as possible—

But Ben’s focus was only so-so on a good day with no distractions, and he had no hope of staying focused with so much going on to distract him, and eventually the stray snippets of thought came through.

_—I have you, Ben…._

_….that was weird earlier…_

_….wish he would touch me—_

Ben kept his forehead against Poe’s, and he wanted to reach down and touch him, berating himself for not thinking to do that obvious thing, he really was terrible in bed—but he had to pretend he didn’t hear anything—if he didn’t, Poe might know how much he had overheard the first time. But shouldn’t he know? But these weren’t the sort of thoughts a person could easily control, it wasn’t like Poe was thinking all this consciously, but maybe if Poe knew how much he could hear they wouldn’t have to do this anymore.

_\--can’t seem to come—it’s so heavy with Ben—_

“Love,” Poe said, “Can you touch me, please?”

He reached down and Poe moaned as he massaged his balls the way he liked when Snoke did it to him—and hesitated, because he didn’t want to bring Snoke into things any more than he already was, but Poe really liked it…but to his horror he felt it secondhand from Poe’s mind, and it felt so good, but he didn’t want it to, he really didn’t want it to because it was too much like Snoke now—his own touch was too much like Snoke—

He moved his hand away and Poe groaned, he had been close and now he wasn’t and it was Ben’s fault for frustrating him.

_Gotta come for Ben—_

Now he felt pressure to come, but Ben understood not to being able to, and he wished he could say something reassuring but he couldn’t. He bit his lip, his own cock rubbing against Poe’s hip, leaking—

“Are you close, love?” Poe breathed.

Ben nodded, nuzzling into Poe’s neck, and he sucked in a deep breath as he saw a fantasy in Poe’s mind _\-- fucking Ben on the cards table, a hand on his back—but no, that was weird earlier but he doesn’t really want that, not really—_

But he did, he wanted to shout at Poe, he did want that, but Poe’s thoughts shifted rapidly again—

_—damn, think—this isn’t heavy and sad, it’s fun and light—_

Ben kept his face still as Poe started to think about fucking Finn on the cards table instead of him. Muscled perfect skin, smooth and soft, flirting and laughing as they effortlessly moved together.

Ben would never be able to do that or even _pretend_ to do that. He wasn’t sure if this was a memory or a fantasy or a mix of both but he couldn’t believe how much they thrust and rocked, and so fast—with Snoke he had held as still as he could while his master moved slowly, frigid cold like ice—( _“You’re so good for your master, Kylo Ren…”)_

Poe was right. He wasn’t ready, he couldn’t move like that. He didn’t know how and even if he could manage, it would really hurt, he wouldn’t be able to hide it, it would feel like being scraped out with a knife on the inside. He would never be able to give Poe what he wanted, even with all these pitying tiny steps forward and this shadow of borrowed pleasure from his head.

Poe groaned and his rhythm returned at the memory/fantasy of Finn, and Ben took a deep breath, biting his lip, welcoming the sudden sharp pain in his own shaft, as if Poe’s skin had sprouted thorns that stabbed into him. At least this was familiar. He shifted so his cock didn’t touch and the pain diminished instantly, he only felt the phantom sensation of Poe’s hand from his mind. He heard Poe’s confused thoughts and brief worry that Ben had seen that _but hopefully he’s not listening to stuff like that…_

Ben wanted to stop. He opened his mouth, nearly about to say something, because Poe didn’t know—he didn’t know that it started to hurt again, didn’t know that Ben couldn’t control what he did and didn’t see—but Poe was so determined, he wanted to help so much.

“How are you doing, Ben?” Poe asked, slowing for a moment and looking at him.

Ben panicked—he had to act like he hadn’t seen the fantasy, obviously—but he wanted to stop—but how could he say that without Poe knowing what he saw?

Ben kissed his cheek. “I’m good.”

Poe kissed him and the fantasy shifted again. _Poe squirmed, held in place as Ben sucked him off—_

Ben smiled, relieved that Poe wanted to fantasize about him after all. And okay, maybe that was something to remember, Poe fantasized about Ben putting a hand on his stomach while he went down on him. He would try that sometime.

It shifted again.

Ben drew a shaky breath. He recognized this.

_Poe stared down Kylo Ren in the dark interrogation room, feeling him inside his head, a black glove touching his face…Kylo removed his helmet and knelt down, and Poe strained against the restraints, coming, coming and Kylo drank him down---_

Poe came, small grudging spurts after all that effort, and it caught Ben by surprise even though he felt the orgasm building from Poe’s mind, and he came too, only he wasn’t ready, he was still in shock, he wasn’t expecting it, he held on to Poe and failed to fight the small whimper as he anticipated the usual shooting pain—

Only it didn’t happen. He kept holding Poe, feeling the wet come between them on his stomach, gasping.

“Ben?” Poe asked.

“It didn’t hurt,” Ben breathed, shocked, talking to himself just as much as he was talking to Poe. 

“Really?” Poe said, smiling weakly. _That was mediocre, poor Ben…_

Ben shut the door, fled Poe’s mind before he had to hear any more, keeping his breathing steady, counting his breath in, counting his breath out, because if he thought about anything beyond that right now he didn’t know what he would do—Poe wanted— _no, don’t think about it, don’t, he doesn’t mean it, he doesn’t—breathe in, breathe out…_

“You came, I’m so happy, love,” Poe said, grinning.

Ben nodded, breathing heavily, trying to pass it off as being overwhelmed by the feeling of the “mediocre” orgasm. He had to focus on his breathing, it was the simplest meditation he could think of, so simple even he couldn’t mess it up. Poe held his hand and kissed him, got up for a moment, returned with towels, cleaned him carefully and sweetly, and Ben stayed still, overwhelmed, nodding whenever Poe asked if he was okay, thinking maybe everything that just happened wasn't real. Because if it was real, he didn't know what to do. 


End file.
